Questions become:
What about truth?
Along with an acre of pasture
There are moments of rain
That twist down the spine
Of Kentucky Bluegrass.
Deserted and alone
The ghosts run sordidly
Through shadows that come at dusk.
Follow the windrows
Carry each bundle lightly
With an eye for each special
Symmetrical glimpse.
My love never walked away
Woke up and began to sing
Wild wild we’re holding hands
With a honey bee and a cherry tree
Singing songs on a sunny day
Merrier than a holiday
We’re here in joy with an alibi
To take another round on a paddle boat
And climb away into the big limbed tree.
I am slipping into a field of enjoyment
Clouds filled with brown eyed susans
Heat waves on the horizon
Dance with the butterflies
While my morning songs waft softly
Over the dewy tips of wild flowers.
Hello, my dear,
I am home.
You are the tenderness
As I move in this world
Sunlight
Hitting every curl
You are the sweetness
In every touch
So that when I hit the dirt
I feel its every moment
Into my bones
Calling me home
Like the kingdom inside
You are on the edge
(You are of this stone)
I wondered how many stars could align
How many mistakes I could ever make
I wondered if there was any way in the world
I could ever make sense of what I could not learn.
I wondered if there was beautiful symmetry
In the colours that lay upon Bumble Bees back
I wondered if Tree had the consciousness
To let out its needles and drop all its leaves.
I wondered how Weeds felt blowing in the wind
I wondered how Evening felt always chasing the day
I wondered how Birds felt calling out in vain
And on everything dust settles like snow and the rain.
I finally lost it
Dying embers of a blue hidden sun
Closing in on the gypsy caravan
Callused and tired
Sweat perspiring in long streaks
Nostrils flairing
Slight rustling of nearby poplar trees
And the echo of every footstep
Beating out of tune with thy heartbeat.
One last moment
Erased the pain
No longer present
Between shoulder blades and spine,
A hoot broke the echoing
Going deeper inside my brain
A distant owl
Awake to the day
Unaware the danger
Of finding myself in
So the path led twisting
Towards a deeper understanding
Of fungii and lichen
Flora and the rot of its day
Until the madness set in
Spiraling to tree tops touching open sky
And a little beaver dam turned waterfall
Gurgling goodnight.
Vegetables
Windows
Autumn
What did you do
When the mountain found you
Rolling over the field
Like dust in the wind
Gone in pure sin
Said the tree in the copse
For the gorge that uproared
Cleared it’s throat
In a waterfall
And clamered all down to the pond
Jumped up the bank
To hide in a den
Till the moon
Slipped behind the horizon
Then as dawn broke again
The mountain awoke
And spied what seemed him a joke.
Goose calls as Sun sets
Neither making its way or stressed
Smell of Grass finds
Wind’s fine lines
Amongst the fields
That wave goodnight
While Clouds roll into a blanket
To wish Gaia a good sleep.
My mind has become jagged
A Cliff with one soaring Eagle
Circling around and around
Just beyond eyesight.
Little plants grow here
Barely hanging onto life
Grasping what little Soil
Has fallen between the Rocks.
Barely does a Thought stay
For it’s brother begs attention
Ruthlessly asking for my step
Dare I not pass his way.
So here I step gingerly
Trepid and disoriented
Glancing above me, evermore
Dare I lose a thought.